


Trust is a Knife

by silenceofthetitans



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Depression, Eventual Fluff, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hospitals, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Therapy, Triggers, Trust Issues, various - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceofthetitans/pseuds/silenceofthetitans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as I can remember, I've always had nightmares. Nightmares of fearsome giants terrorizing the land, of three walls protecting humanity. I'm a selective mute; I've not spoken since the first nightmare, when I was eight years old. Now, I'm sixteen, in a new high-school, all alone and...there's someone who seems familiar, though I can't place my finger on where from.<br/>My name is Marco Bott, and my life just got a whole lot more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> I should really be writing Double-Lives, but I've literally got no inspiration for it so far, so here's a JeanMarco fanfiction to pass the time. I might actually put more work into this than I will on Double-Lives, so updates for this may be more frequent than that - but of course, I'll update the other.  
> I'm writing in first-person because, well, it's easier than writing in third for a selective-mute character. You'll have insights to all of Marco's thoughts, and it won't seem ridiculously awkward because one character doesn't speak.

Trust is like...it's like a knife; hanging onto a rope, ready to break at any moment. This knife is hanging over your neck, ready to plunge in and make it's kill if the rope is broken. Trust is the most powerful thing on this planet.

For as long as I can remember, I've always had nightmares. Nightmares of fearsome giants terrorizing the land, of three walls protecting humanity. I'm a selective mute; I've not spoken since the first nightmare, when I was eight years old. Now, I'm sixteen, in a new high-school, all alone...there's someone who seems familiar, though I can't place my finger on where from.

My name is Marco Bott, and my life just got a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

I've been in this school for a total of two weeks. In those two weeks, I've had people jeering at me for never speaking, but I can never do anything about it. No matter how hard I try, I just can't respond, so I smile and brush it off, much to their annoyance. Words become crueler, harsher. They started taking my lunch-money, not that I cared. School meals sucked. They called me a pushover for doing anything anyone said - I can't help it. They think I'm too polite, too kind. They're wrong; I feel...I feel obliged to do things for others. I put on a fake smile, nod, and get on with the tasks. They don't know how many times I've woken up, covered in my own sweat, panting heavily. They don't know that my family's in deep trouble because they've decided I have to go to therapy, which isn't cheap at all. It doesn't help that I end up communicating through writing, never speaking. I can't speak. Speaking is not an option, I don't want to speak; people will ask me okay, and my voice will waver as I lie. A nod, or a fake smile with an 'I'm okay!' on a piece of paper works much easier. But also..the experiences in my dreams feel all too real.

It started one Summer night. The dream started off a little odd, but not..scary. Well, okay, I lied. It was always scary for me. First, I was in a town, and there was news of 'Wall Maria being breached'. That was strange enough. Talk of Titans spread around, the town became more crowded, and food, more scarce. Then the vision flickered, becoming some place with a lot of people; I later learned it was Training...to kill the Titans. I met various people, but their names..I never got them. They were all blurred faces, though I know I was close to one. The nightmare ended rather abrubtly in 'The Battle of Trost',  I think it was called. When I woke up, my mouth was open, but nothing came out; I found that I was crying.

Each night, the nightmares got worse. I'd experience real pain, real regrets. My parents worried over me, wondered why I refused to speak. They took me to doctors, and, after what appeared to be a debate over it, they all agreed that I had selective-mutism. Therapy didn't come until much later, when I was fourteen. My parents were used to me not talking, but I could tell it upset them. They seemed relieved when I nodded to show I was fine, gave them a fake smile; one that I'd perfected over the years. I learnt that you couldn't just tell your problems, you'd be deemed crazy. So..I faked being okay, and it worked.

I found a job just after my sixteenth birthday; only a part-time one, of course, but it had good pay, which helped greatly with the family, and the manager of the place, Dot Pixis, didn't mind me never speaking. It was in a coffee-shop, just a simple one that didn't require training, one I learned through experience. Apparently, it was often recruiting younger teens, to help them with financial problems; nice thinking, Pixis. A woman, well, no, a girl by the name of Annie helped me out a lot, since she was usually with me on my shifts on a Friday or a Saturday, while the rest of the week was either alone or with a random person. Sundays, if I worked, were with Connie Springer and Sasha Braus; my favourite people. They were friends of mine, and had taken to using my body-language and expressions to determine what I was saying. Connie had become exceptionally good at it, often being able to speak out what I was saying. We often had sleepovers after my shift on a Saturday, watching scary movies, before cuddling with Sasha on the couch and sleeping, much to all of our parent's amusements. Sleepovers were more often at Connie's house, though they sometimes moved to mine, and even to Sasha's. All of ours parents were fine with it; especially mine. They were glad I'd found people to call my friends.

But even so, I could never tell them of how shit school-life was. They weren't in the same school as me, though Connie said he was probably going to transfer, and Sasha was definitely transferring in a few weeks. That..really relieved me; I wouldn't be alone all through high-school.

I met him one..strange morning, Saturday, in fact. I was on shift for the entire day due to most of the staff either falling ill or having far too much on their hands. More work meant more pay, so I was down with it. That's when he entered; the tan-haired guy with an undercut and a cute face. Honestly, I knew I wasn't straight; my parents did, too. I'd never held a relationship with a girl, and I found it wasn't because of my mutism, it was because, well, I never showed interest. My first male crush had been the worst, since he wasn't even gay, so that was upsetting, but I got over it. Anyway, back to the guy. He'd ordered a latte, and, of course, I'd made it, written down the correct amount he had to pay(he seemed curious about this, but never questoned it), and gave him his change. The guy then walked over to a table, and sat, though I often caught him glancing at me, which caused me to look away. 

"You're the new kid in school, right? I have practically every class with you." The voice shocked me, and I turned my gaze to him, thinking about it hard. An amused smile crossed his lips, which probably meant I actually looked like I was thinking. "You're mute or something; never speaking? The teachers talk about it a lot, say it's pretty strange." Well, at least he appeared to be a talker. I just gave him a nod, and a small smile, curious as to why he was speaking to me. He took a sip of his latte(probably burnt himself as well; he winced). "My name's Jean Kirstein." He finally said. Jean. Sounded...French, maybe? I picked up the piece of paper I'd written his total on, and wrote my name, holding it up. Jean's eyes squinted as he looked at it, before nodding. "Nice to meet you, Marco. Maybe we should hang out some time?" He offered.

Now, let me say this; it was rare for anyone to ask to hang out, and I had severe trust issues. I must've given him a look that said that I didn't trust him, because he blinked in surprise. "Or..not? I was just thinking.." He turned his gaze to his latte, coughing behind his hand, "I see you get teased a lot, and you don't really interact with anybody on friendly terms unless it's to do something for them. You're really kind." He stated.

I'm not kind. I felt obliged to do everything. If I wasn't such a push-over and if I didn't want to make a good impression, I'd probably be pretty cruel, I think. However, his offer was tempting. So, I took a piece of paper, and wrote my number on it, holding it out. Jean stood up and walked over to me, taking it, and looking at it, before smiling. "Great!" He walked over to his table and sat down again, letting me serve another customer, before continuing. "I'll text you later." Oh, at least he wasn't stupid and said 'I'll call you', because guess how great that would turn out? Mhm. 

I just gave him a nod, and he left after another ten minutes, giving me a small wave, which I returned. He lingered in the back of my mind, being rather..familiar, I realized. His voice, his hair, his eyes...Even his name. Jean Kirstein. I repeated it constantly in my mind as I served more customers. I couldn't quite place where he was from, but I know for a fact that he was familiar. Where from? Ugh, it was all so confusing, and I was starting to get very, very frustrated. By the end of my shift, which was at seven in the evening(thank the lord that Annie came when she did), I was getting very worked up by it. I walked home, as I usually did, and entered, taking off my shoes. My parents had a bell for me to ring when I was home, so I rang it three times, as usual. My mother's voice came from the kitchen.

"You're rather late, sweetie!" She called, and I followed her voice to the kitchen, absently peering into the pot on the stove. Pasta; great. I wasn't a fussy eater, I just didn't really eat too much. I gave her a nod, arching an eyebrow and exiting. "Dinner will be ready soon. You're not sleeping at anybody's?" She questioned. That's right, I remembered. Quickly pulling out my phone, I gave Connie a text;

To: Connie

Are you and Sasha coming over, or are you abandoning our weekend sleepovers?

From: Connie

Shit man! i completely forgot. askin parents now and if they say yes ill be over in like ten minutes

To: Connie

Mom's making pasta, so hurry up!

I gave an amused smile and shook my head, heading up to my room. After ten minutes, my phone buzzed again, so I looked at it, naturally.

From: Unknown Number

marco

To: Unknown Number

Polo ;)

From: Unknown Number

can i safely assume that its u or?

To: Unknown Number

It is. I'm going to assume this is Jean, then?

He didn't reply, so  shrugged, heading downstairs at a knock on the door. I opened it, and was instantly tackle-hugged by the two morons who'd wormed their way into my life. "Pasta sounds great!" Sasha declared, answering a question my mother had shouted. "Sorry for taking so long, Sasha decided she'd get donuts!" Connie laughed, shaking his head. Sasha was, indeed, carrying a bag of donuts, so I just shrugged it off as I shut the door, the three of us heading upstairs. Jean decided he'd text again, much to my annoyance. Well, no, it wasn't annoyance, it was just..a minor disruption.

From: Jean

yes, its jean. r u doing anything tonight?

To: Jean

I have a couple of friends over.

From: Jean

oh :( okay. srry for disturbing you

I felt a small pang of guilt, and sighed softly, causing Connie to give me a sideways look. Picking up the whiteboard I'd bought to help me communicate, I wrote on it, holding it up. 'Do you mind if another joins us?' I had questioned. Sasha and Connie's faces broke into grins. "Fuck yeah!" Connie fistpumped, "Marco's made a friend, Marco's made a friend~!" Sasha sang, dancing around the room. 

To: Jean

You can come over if you want. We're just having our usual Saturday sleepover, one more won't hurt!

From: Jean

wait really? u literally only met me properly today!

To: Jean

Come over before I change my mind.

Right after that last text, I sent my address. I had no reply afterwards, so I just shrugged, and watched as Sasha and Connie went through my movies, wide grins still plastered on their faces. "Dude, you've got more movies! Is this 'The Shining'?! Scary-movie marathon! I bought Nightmare on Elm Street, and Sasha bought The Exorcist today! Oh man, this is gonna be great! Who's the guy you've invited over?" He questioned, turning to watch as I wrote down Jean's name. Connie's grin widened. "We know him, you know? We were in middle-school with him. A bit of an ass at times, but yeah, he's not bad." He half-shrugged, sitting on my bed cheerfully. I stood up at another knock on the door, and pretty much fell downstairs, having tripped over my own two feet(darn being long-limbed). I internally groaned as I stumbled to the door, and opened it. Jean's face lit up with amusement. "Not very graceful, are you?" He teased as he entered, having taken quicker than Connie or Sasha to arrive. In his hands, he held something, which he did hold out. It was 'Poltergiest', which earned him an amused glance as I headed upstairs, making sure he followed as I entered my room.

Connie and Sasha both sang out cheerful greetings, to which Jean responded with a small wave. While I headed back downstairs to grab our food(making sure nobody hated anything), I could hear them start to talk. Well, at least there wouldn't be any fights. When I entered the kitchen, I walked over to the fridge and picked up the pen clipped onto the side of the whiteboard on it, telling my mother that I had a third person over. "That's completely fine, dear. You're lucky I made enough for Sasha's usual seconds, though she won't be amused that she can't have them." Came her amused reply, to which I smiled at, picking up a tray to put the four dishes on with cutlery, and heading back upstairs.

We ate in comfortable silence, though I did end up leaving half of my food, which Sasha gladly took after giving me a hug. It was a normal thing for us; I ended up leaving some food, Sasha hugged me and ate it. Jean seemed amused, but..honestly, it felt like he'd always been there, like he'd always been with us. For the first time in a while, I felt like my smile was genuine. Connie was the most sensitive to my emotions in the little group, and my happiness, well, if I didn't know Connie any better, I'd say that my happiness was making him even happier. Once everybody was finished, I took the dishes downstairs, waved to my father who'd returned from his work, and went back upstairs to an arguing Connie and Jean.

"We're watching The Shining first!" Connie declared, standing on tip-toes to try to reach Jean's height. The tan-haired guy shook his head furiously, "No, we're watching Poltergiest!" He shot back. Sasha looked at me for help, and I sighed, picking up Nightmare on Elm Street and putting it into the disc-player, turning on my television. This successfully stopped them arguing, and we all piled onto my bed, even Jean, who seemed very comfortable. I didn't scare easily at horror-movies; it was just a thing. You experience hell in your nightmares, and you'd barely flinch at movies. Nightmare on Elm Street really got me, though. I loved the movies, so I ended up watching them nonetheless. 

That night, we discovered that Jean was a big baby. As in...a huge baby. He ended up clinging to me and whimpering pitifully through all three movies, and by the time they were over, he wouldn't let go. This amused Connie and Sasha, both of whom were still eating the donuts the brunette had brought; it was normal for her to buy an army of donuts to eat, so it was all good. However...I really needed a piss, and Jean was hiding his face, so I couldn't show him. Giving Connie a desperate look, he took the hint.

"Jean, unless you want to get pissed over, I'd let go of Marco if I were you. His bladder is terrible." 

That did the trick, and he practically flew from me, giving me a 'You wouldn't look', to which I just smiled innocently and bounced away. I took a decent piss, brushed my teeth and washed my face, before heading back to my room, sitting down on the bed again. I hadn't tuned into the trio's conversation before, but at the mention of my name, I tuned in.

"Marco's like Freckled Jesus!" Sasha stated brightly, turning to look at me, "He's a good baker, and also, he saved my ass with Math." She looked rather sheepish at the last part, while Connie snorted. "I can't argue with that logic; food makes anyone Jesus in your eyes." He stated, causing both Sasha and Jean to laugh, while I just arched an eyebrow and stood up, walking over to my curtains to close them, since I hated the morning light. 

That night, though, I didn't get any sleep. I kept my back firmly pressed against the wall, which was fine due to my bed being against the wall. Security purposes; I still didn't trust Jean, who was snoring away, legs splayed over Connie, who was laying on top of Sasha. I just listened to the trio snore away like there was no tomorrow, though I knew for a fact that my gaze was trained on the dark shape that I knew was Jean. Sorry, man, you may be cute and I may like you, but trust for me is hard to come by. Though, I was glad that I'd invited him, because we'd had more fun that we usually did, and that was saying quite a lot. Maybe, just maybe, Jean and I would become closer. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but...There was still the fact that he seemed to familiar. Jean Kirstein, where do I know you from?


	2. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I woke up, drenched in sweat - my eyes must've been wide as well. The light was on, and Jean was standing over me, a worried look in his eyes.  
> "Marco?" He questioned softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, causing me to flinch back, "What's wrong?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on updating this so soon, but my ideas are running high for this fanfiction, and I need to write, and thus chapter two is out today!  
> If you have any questions or maybe even something you'd like to see in later chapters, my tumblr is silenceofthetitans, as is my skype. Feel free to add me.

_"I hope you won't get mad when I say this...But you aren't a strong person, so you can relate to how the weak feel. In addition, you excel in sizing up any situation - isn't that why you immediately know what should be done?"  
_

* * *

I woke up, drenched in sweat - my eyes must've been wide as well. The light was on, and Jean was standing over me, a worried look in his eyes.

"Marco?" He questioned softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, causing me to flinch back, "What's wrong?" His tone was concerned, the type a close friend or family member would have. A couple of snorts signalled that both Connie and Sasha were still fast asleep, and a glance at my alarm-clock told me it was only four in the morning - so much for staying up due to my trust issues. My gaze flickered back to Jean, and I sat up, keeping my back pressed against the wall, hands going to my mouth. I felt like I was going to throw up - I must've paled, because Jean moved back, allowing me to get up and run out, heading to the bathroom. I was very lucky, because as soon as I was over the toilet I threw up. Footsteps told me that someone cared enough to come check on me, before there was a soothing motion on my back. Once my stomach was empty of last night's dinner, I sat up and used the hand-towel to wipe my mouth, turning to see who'd followed me - Jean had.

He seemed genuinely concerned, and before I could even attempt to show him what I wanted to ask, he sighed. "You were tossing and turning, and at one point you appeared to be crying." Jean explained quietly, helping me to my feet. "I tried to wake you up, but you just wouldn't. You were like it for almost an hour." He added in a quieter tone. Now, it had been a while before a nightmare had made me react so violently - I usually didn't wake up from it, however, there was something lingering in my mind. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself - tired-looking brown eyes stared back at me, face pale, and messed up hair. I breathed out a silent sigh, before turning to Jean and giving him a small - yet fake - smile, trying to reassure him that I'd be alright.

Trust for me was a precious thing - I trusted Connie, Sasha and my family dearly, but they'd all taken a while for me to get used to. I felt..natural, with Jean. Almost as if he was meant to be there for me, and that he could be trusted. I felt..relaxed around him, like there was no reason to worry about him stabbing me in the back, or betraying me. I let my gaze fall to the floor, and I put my hand to my head as I tried to recall the nightmare. I never usually did this, but something must've happened for me to feel so calm around Jean.

I'd told someone that they weren't a strong person, though the excelled in sizing up any situation...I remembered that. We'd just managed to clear out a basement from the things I'd learned were Titans. It was just a re-run of my previous nightmares, except..Something had changed. Deciding I'd just pushed the thought away, since I didn't want to break down in front of someone I barely knew(although I felt like I'd known him for years), I decided to look at him, frowning somewhat. Why had he even been awake?

My answer was questioned, however, when he walked over to the sink to throw water over his face. "I had a nightmare, but I'm not sure if it would compare to the one you must have had." He mused, turning to look at me. I arched an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue, to tell me about the nightmare. Jean seemed rather hesitant, before he looked down at the ground.

"I..don't know why..but it was about someone who looked like you, I think. I can't quite remember. He was..leaning aganst a building, and half of him was..gone. I remember feeling very upset, and very..distressed." His voice was soft, and I frowned slightly, tilting my head. "When I woke up, I automatically turned on the light, it's good that Connie and Sasha are such deep-sleepers. Then, I saw you tossing and turning, and because the covers were over one half of you, I kinda panicked." He admitted, shaking his head. 

I felt a small amount of worry seep into me - that nightmare sounded just as bad as mine. I shook my head, hoping that he'd understand that I was fine with it - even giving him a small smile. Jean seemed rather reassured by this as we both walked out of the bathroom, heading back to my bedroom. "Thanks for listening to me, Marco." He smiled, "I know we haven't known each-other for long, but you've already done a lot for me." He mused, "Do you want to..." He paused, seeming to think about it, "write about your ngihtmare?" 

He seemed concerned, but I shook my head, using my fingers to do a zipper-motion over my lips. There was no way I'd talk about my nightmares with him, even if I felt safe. I didn't talk about them to anybody - I barely told the truth to my therapist. He did nod in understanding, though, almost as if he understood why I wanted to keep it a secret.

Soon enough, we reached my room, though we kept the light on and sat on my bed. Interestingly enough, Jean seemed pretty open about his life. He told me about his parents and how much he hated someone called 'Jaeger', or about his crush with beautiful black hair named 'Mikasa'. He seemed to talk to fill in the silence, but it was nice, just getting to know someone like this. I did pick up my white-board often, finding myself opening up to him a small bit - not too much. I did tell him that I was in therapy for my nightmares, and that I would speak if my mind let me - he seemed very understanding about this.

We must've talked until we fell asleep, because I opened my eyes to find Sasha and Connie staring at me, and I wondered why I felt like I was being crushed. One glance to the side told me that Jean had fallen asleep with me, and he was now snoring softly, his arms wrapped around me and his drool making it's way onto my shirt, making me wrinkle my nose slightly.

"Soo...." Sasha grinned. "Did we miss something?" She tilted her head innocently, and I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at her. She just giggled, clasping her hands over her mouth. "You two must've had a heart-to-heart. I bet you did, didn't you?" Oh, the brunette was absolutely basking in this, but we did..technically have a heart-to-heart, so I just sighed and nodded, unable to move due to a certain tan-haired guy clinging to me like I was his life support. "Oh Marco, that's adorable, but your mom called like five minutes ago to say that she'd have breakfast done in ten, so we were about to wake you up." She clapped her hands a few times, while Connie just laughed. 

I proceeded to try to pry Jean from me, but this seemed to wake him up, and he practically flew from me, ending up on the very edge of the bed. Feeling rather..evil, I shifted my weight so the mattress went down, and the other fell to the floor with a startled yelp and a curse. "Marco!" He cried, looking at me with betrayal in his eyes, "That was cruel." His hands went over his heart, and I was half-tempted to apologise before he burst into laughter. 

This Sunday was my day off, but not Sasha and Connie's. After breakfast, the two departed, and I ended up in my room with Jean again, listening to him rant about Jaeger.

"I swear, every single time I see that asshole, he's asking for a fight!" Jean told me, while I nodded quietly. We were both laying on the floor, my legs resting over his, though he'd tried many times to change that around, not that it worked. "Ugh. Is there anyone you fight with, Marco?" He lifted his head lazily. Thinking about it for a few moments, I shook my head. I never saw a reason to get into fights - brushing everything off was my speciality, after all. The other snorted softly, letting his head fall back to the soft carpet. "Figured. You're too nice for that." He hummed. I was tempted to tell him that I wasn't nice, that I just felt obliged to do everything, but..I was honestly having doubts about that. It kind-of made me feel a tiny bit good about myself when I helped others, so maybe I was a little nicer than I thought.

Jean and I proved to be more similar than I'd though - he had nightmares often, but most of the time they were blurry. He told me how I reminded him of a blurred figure in my dream, and I ended up telling him that he reminded me of someone in my dream, which amused him greatly. Communicating with my white-board was annoying, but finding a new friend wouldn't mean I'd end up speaking - though..I felt safe with Jean; he proved to be more help than a therapist. I'd known him for a span of two days, and I'd already told him a lot about myself - more than anyboy knew. Telling him about my nightmares felt natural, easy. I still felt as if I'd known him for years, and, he told me, he felt like he'd known me for years.

Unfortunately, he hadn't brought enough clothes to stay over Sunday night, so he left after dinner, waving goodbye to me and my parents, whom seemed to like him already. Jean did inform me, in fact, that he only lived down the street, so if I ever wanted to talk again, I was free to knock on his door, which made me feel better. That night, my nightmares were lighter, less terrifying. Jean was starting to have an impact on my life, and I barely knew him. Hopefully, he wouldn't betray the trust I'd put in him, because..well..that would probably make my trust-issues become much worse, since I'd told him so much.

Jean Kirsten, you really are one tricky guy.


	3. Douchebag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get through this, because I knew I could. As long as I had someone to talk to, I could get through this, and I'd be okay, I was positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been procrastinating like a biatch, I'm sorry. I've still got block for Double-Lives, but I'll eventually get around to thinking hard enough for a decent-length chapter for it, but for now, here's chapter 3.  
> Again, my skype and tumblr are both silenceofthetitans, so feel free to contact me there for whatever reason.

School felt..different. Jean really was in almost every one of my classes, and moved to sit next to me. He walked to classes and ate lunch with me, and we walked home together, as well; it was new, and very nice. Jean told me all about his 'rival', Eren Jaeger, and his adoptive-sister, Mikasa Ackerman, as well as the blond-kid that was Eren's best friend, Armin Arlert. Everything was great, until Thursday.

It started off average; Jean and I walked to our classes, he talked, I wrote...the average stuff, until Lunch. My previous period had been away from him, so I'd promised to meet him by his locker, but as I approached hislocker, I heard some very angry yelling; a strange voice plus Jean's. I frowned and moved faster, starting to hear the conversation.

"You're the one with a nerd for a friend! I bet you don't even do your homework, I bet you give him handjobs or blowjobs for doing it!" That was Jean, I knew that for a fact. A dog-like growl tore out of the one he was arguing with. "At least my friend can actually speak! How do you even hold a conversation with him?" That hurt more than I expected it to, and I paused; I could see them, now. There was a brown-haired guy who looked our age, while there was a black-haired girl with a red scarf with him. The black-haired girl noticed me, and gave me an apologetic look, mouthing something that looked like 'sorry'. 

Jean threw his fist at that moment, and before I knew it, the two were yelling, punching, kicking and even biting at each-other. The black-haired girl sighed and looked at me, probably for help - so I did. I took hold of Jean and pulled him back, while the girl pulled the brunet away. The two struggled wildly, and it was hard to hold onto Jean, but I managed. He turned his head, probably to shout at me, but then appeared to realize who I was, and relaxed. "Sorry, Marco.." He mumbled, turning his glare to the boy. "He said some pretty shit things about you.."

I sighed silently and let go of Jean, who moved back to stay at my side, while the black-haired girl let the brunet go. Jean and the brunet glared, before the latter finally whipped around and stormed off, leaving his friend, who gave me another apologetic look. "I'm sorry for him." She apologised, more to me than to Jean, though he didn't care, just turning his head; I noticed his cheeks had coloured. I shook my head and gave her a smile, before she held out her hand to shake. "I'm Mikasa, and that was Eren. You're Marco, right?" Well, at least I didn't have to get Jean to tell her my name. I nodded and shook her hand gently, before she gave a small wave to me(completely ignoring Jean, I noticed), and left. I turned my gaze to my friend, and crossed my arms, waiting for an explanation. He seemed to notice this, and sighed.

"I'll start from the beginning, okay? I heard Jaeger by his locker, talking about how he had more friends than me, which I didn't care about, until he brought up who my friends were. He was in our middle-school, so obviously he knows Connie and Sasha, but he didn't say much about them, since he was friends with them as well. However, then the topic moved to the 'freckled guy'. Of course, he meant you, so I started listening more. He began commenting on how weird it was that you never spoke, and said that you were probably an asshole in disguise, waiting to pounce and hurt someone's feelings. He then moved on to say that if you actually spoke, you'd be cool. Mikasa called him out on that and told him not to be a jerk, but I kinda..snapped, and started insulting Armin.." Jean looked rather sheepish, "But..I mean, nobody insults my friends, especially with something they can't even help, right?" He looked to me, and I just sighed, nodding slowly. Maybe I'd try to interact with Mikasa again, get the story from her. He appeared to be holding things back, and I wanted the full story.

The rest of the day progressed without a hitch, though I still wanted to find Mikasa. At the end of the day, Jean muttered something about asking our Science teacher about something, so I took the chance to find Mikasa. I found her with Eren, and I made sure I had my white-board, before lightly tapping her shoulder. She turned around and blinked at me. "Oh, hey." She seemed a little surprised, "How can I help you?" She was also very polite, I liked that. I took my whiteboard marker and wrote 'I want to know what happened for the fight to start', before turning the board to show her. Mikasa took a few moments to read, before nodding. "Understandable. Eren, go to the library and see if Armin's still there; we've been waiting for too long." She frowned, turning to him. Obviously reluctant, the other walked off, before the black-haired girl turned to me.

She waited her a few moments, before sighing. "Eren was bullshitting about Jean's friends; it started off pretty normal, with him being proud over having more friends than Jean, boasting and such. He was about to give shit about Connie and Sasha, but they're his friends as well, so he decided not to, but then he turned the topic to you." I frowned at this, but gestured for her to continue; so she did. "Eren started talking about you never speaking being weird, and how you were probably an asshole, saying you'd be cooler if you spoke. He didn't realize that you were mute.." Mikasa ran a hand through her hair, adjusting her scarf; little actions that I noticed. "Jean called him out on it, daring him to say that to your face instead of behind your back, and he said that he gladly would; which he wouldn't...So Jean started talking shit about Armin, who is Eren's best friend, undoubtedly. They ended up in a really fierce battle, trying to protect their friends by talking shit about the other's friends, that kind-of thing. At one point, Eren said that you'd be better off dead, which really got to Jean, so his insults got a bit worse...basically, Eren was a giant twat and I apologise for him."

That hurt even more, that someone had said I was better off dead. I swallowed, and nodded slightly, backing off and giving her a wave before heading to my locker, feeling rather..cold. I'd forgotten, due to Jean constantly being there for me, that nobody really liked me. Knowing that someone had actually said I was better off dead hurt more than I could imagine. I didn't really notice when Jean walked over to me, and I didn't listen as he talked about having to team up with someone else for Science. I could hear him complan about the cold as we walked along the street, but I wasn't actually paying attention, more focused on what Mikasa said Eren had said. I really doubted that she'd make up something like that, and that made me want to cry.

Jean's concerned voice, however, broke me out of my thoughts. "Marco..You're crying." He murmured. I looked up in shock, and used my hand to hurriedly wipe them away. Apparently, I hadn't wanted to cry, I had begun to cry. I gave him a small smile, but he wasn't convinced. "Are you having bad memories, or something? Do you wanna talk about it?" 

No, I didn't want to talk about it. I shook my head and parted ways with him to go to my house, glancing back when I realized he was just standing there, watching me. I gave him a wave before I entered, and this caused him to leave. I rang the bell in my house as I took off my shoes and tossed my bag aside, before headng upstairs, going straight to my room. I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking carefully. I don't know how long I was laying there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, lost in my own thoughts, but soon, I was pulled out of them.

"Marco." It was my mom. "Marco, I called you multiple times to come down for dinner. Aren't you hungry?" The concern in her tone was noticeable. I turned my head to her, and smiled, shaking me head. She seemed to understand, and nodded. "Eat something before you go to bed, even if it's little, mind." She warned, "Don't make me force you to eat." Ah, that was my mom. Always looking out for me. I just waved my hand airily, and watched as she left, before dropping my happy facade. It sucked, having to lie to my own parents, but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn't tell them that, because of some words someone said, the happiness I felt when I was around my friends evaporated. 

I knew for a fact that I wasn't suicidal - that was something I could rule off. Why? Because, well, there was something that really hit me whenever I thought about it. My parents would be heart-broken if I just gave up, and now? So would Jean. But most of all..I didn't want to disappoint anybody. I wanted to get through this, because I knew I could. As long as I had someone to talk to, I could get through this, and I'd be okay, I was positive. I took a deep breath, and let myself smile to myself, despite it being fake. Eren was probably just angry, and was taking his anger out on Jean by using one of his friends as a tool. That was all. I hoped, at least. If it was genuine...I decided I'd try to interact with the strange brunet when I was alone. I was sure I had one lesson with him; one I didn't have Jean in. Maybe that would be a good time to approach him, see if he actually meant it, since, well, it would be on my mind forever if I didn't get confirmation that he'd just been angry. If it was, well...I would let it pass. There wasn't much else I could do. Hold grudges on someone like that? It was pretty hard for me to do unless I really hated them, or they'd betrayed the trust that I found so hard to give others. I didn't know Eren, so all I could do was hope his words weren't genuine. If they were genuine, and it hadn't just been anger? ....I don't know what I'd do, then.


	4. Goodnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye, everyone -- Marco Bodt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit; I'mma fuckin' moron and I forgot to add the chapter-note.  
> Yeah, trigger-warning; if any of the tags trigger you, don't read this. But really, this isn't a happy fic. Yet.

I did talk to Eren the next day, and, much to my relief, it had been anger speaking; everything was back to normal, or so I thought.

It started out as a sort-of normal day, around a month later. I'd been feeling down, even though Eren had really regretted saying those words, and I just..didn't want to move. I didn't have the motivation to do anything, to be honest, it was hard to just roll out of bed. It was even harder to shower, brush my teeth, and get dressed. I just wanted to be alone, hidden in my room, away from the world. Today, I didn't even want to exist. I wanted to vanish, not to be on this planet. I wanted...well..I wanted to die. There was no safer way to put it. The positive thoughts I'd had the previous month? Gone. Nonexistent. Maybe everybody would be better-off without me. Maybe, just maybe, I could vanish without a trace.

I went to school feeling very, very bad. I didn't even acknowledge Jean that day, and I ended up skipping after Lunch to go home. Jean was busy fighting with Eren, so he didn't notice. For once, I was glad I was unable to allow myself to speak. My mother wasn't home, so I didn't have any questions, I just headed straight to my room. I sat at my desk, and pulled out a piece of paper, thinking very, very carefully about it, grabbing a pen. It hurt to put so much effort into this, since I didn't want to put any effort in, but..the least I could do was this.

_"Dear Mom, Dad and Jean,_

_I'm sorry I'm a coward. I'm sorry that I decided to enter this world, but now I've decided I'll leave it, the easy way. Don't blame anybody but me; this is my decision, and my decision alone. Please read the entire note; it's the last thing I'm giving you, it's my way of calling for help. I'll probably be gone by the time you read this, so there's no point in calling the police or whatever, I don't want to be saved. If I'm saved..I'll feel even worse, trust me._

_Yeah, this is a suicide note. Oh god, I'm scared, but wouldn't everybody be if they knew this was their last memory besides the end? It's scary, I think I may be crying, but..that's fine. Nobody reached out to me when I stopped smiling; I told you I just felt ill, you believed it. The therapist didn't question me about it, in fact, I think she's given up on trying to get me to speak, but truly, she's a sweet thing, it's not her fault she's more of a pushover than me, and believes things a little too easily. Or..I'm just too good at lying. Yeah, probably the latter. My therapist has helped many, don't blame her._

_Jean; You were a great friend, probably more so than Connie or Sasha. The reason I'm not addressing them in this? I suppose I ended up closer to you within such a short time-period compared to them, so you get a special mention. Thanks for being my support since we met, I still don't know why you even approached me. You protected me when people said cold things about me, and let me write to you about my nightmares. Thank you so, so much for that, I really appreciate it._

_Mom &Dad It's not your fault that you didn't notice. You were both so busy, mom with her personal business and dad with his job that kept him away..Neither of you had the tme to notice things were spiralling downwards for me. I love you both dearly, and I'm really sorry._

_I'm going to end this note before I get tears on it, fuck. I love you all, and I hope you have a great life. Don't mourn for me, because I don't want to be mourned. Seems pretty cold saying that, doesn't it? Well, yeah. I felt obliged to be nice, I didn't really..feel like being nice was my thing, but I just grew into the facade, I suppose._

_Goodbye, everyone -- Marco Bodt."_

That was it, I was done. I felt the tears on my face and sniffed, wiping them away, and leaving the note on the desk. No need to make it pretty, right? I snorted as I headed downstairs and out of the house, walking in silence. It had started raining, but that was fine. I didn't particularly care anymore, since the worse my health was, the quicker it would be over, right? I hoped so, at least.

I walked for a while; at least twenty minutes, until I came to the outskirts of town, where there was a small forest. People usually walked their dogs there, but in the rain..? I hoped not. I sighed as I entered it, noticing that there were sirens in the distance. Mom must've found my letter and called the police, then. I told her not to, but..there was no point. They wouldn't search the forest for a teenager who was about to kill himself. I shook my head and snorted, listening to the soft squelch of mud beneath my feet as  walked on, letting my feet take me where-ever I was going to do the deed.

The sound of running water hit my ears, and when I squinted, I noticed that there was a river in front of me, with a bridge going over it. I walked until I was in the middle of the bridge, and leaned over the edge, looking down at the water. It was dark; I think it must've been pretty deep. I was aware of this as I heaved myself up and sat on the edge, unaware of anything but the water. I didn't like how high the water was; it was too close to the bridge. I knew this river; it was always high. It was annoying, but..yeah, there was no point in thinking about it. I don't think there was anybody around, so hopefully I'd be gone before anybody found me. 

I briefly remember pushing off with my hands, letting myself fall. The coldness enveloped me, embraced me in a welcoming manner. I felt the breath leave my lungs, and a sudden regret about this, but..it was a little late for that. Well, fuck. I didn't feel pain other than my lungs screaming for air, which meant the water had been pretty high, right? I couldn't think anymore, my mind numbed, and then everything went dark.

* * *

Gentle beeping. A sharp pain in my arm; a warmth on the opposite side, on my hand. Distant voices, seeming to be relieved. Where was I? Oh. That was right. I'd jumped. Tried to kill myself, huh. The warmth on my other hand tightened, fingers were intertwined with my own. After a few more moments, I turned my head, and half-opened my eyes. It was all blurred, at first, before I blinked a few times, and saw someone I hadn't expected to be here - Jean.

He looked relieved, eyes locking onto mine. He didn't seem angry like I would've expected him to - and he looked very tired. "Marco.." He whispered, hand tightening on mine. He looked like he wanted to say more, but there was the sound of a door opening, and I turned my head to see a nurse, whom smiled at me. "Marco Bodt, you were rather lucky. Someone saw you." Oh yes, rather lucky my ass. "The water was high, as well. Now, we'll have to keep you in for observation." Wonderful. "And you're going to have to attend group-therapy sessions." Even better. "Although, if you really don't want to go." I don't want to go. "You don't have to." Fabulous.

I managed a small nod, before the nurse smiled again. It was sickenenly sweet and fake. "Well, we'll call your parents to know you've woken up, and we'll allow your friend to stay for now, since your parents authorized it." She nodded and left, leaving Jean and I alone. I didn't want to be alone with him; please come back.

"Why did you do it?" His voice was weak. "Marco, why couldn't you reach out to us?" He sounded very hurt. I turned my head away from him, looking at the IV in my arm. "Don't even think about it, Marco." Jean's voice turned stern, and I turned to look at him, realizing he was crying again. Did I cause more trouble when trying to end it? Typical. "Please. Please attend group-therapy." He whispered, continuing wthout waiting for an answer. Well, he wouldn't get one anyway, so he was intelligent. "Apparently, it'll be the same one I'm in." Jean attended therapy? This piqued my interest, and he noticed it, giving me a weak smile. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. You made it worse, you little ass." He mumbled, glancing away. "Well, kind-of worse, not much. You gave me flashbacks. I'd rather not tell you what caused it, since..y'know..It's not good." Jean sighed, before shaking his head and looking at me again. "It's a mixed group, though; Connie and Sasha used to attend it. They said you'd be attending for the selective-mutism, meaning you'll drop out of your one-to-one therapy, the nightmares your parents said you had often, depression and the trust-issues you appear to have. Connie and Sasha had to tell them what they knew about you." I gave him a glare, and he flinched back, "I'm sorry, Marco, but we didn't want to lose you. Group-therapy will help, I swear!"

I considered it. For one, I was surprised that Jean could hide his PTSD so well; he must've been attending therapy for a while. If I made it worse, didn't that mean it had something to do with suicide? I really didn't know, maybe I'd find out. I was very surprised to find that Connie and Sasha would say that I had trust-issues to someone else, but I let it pass for now, since there was no point in denying it. 

Jean and I sat in utter silence, before I let out a small sigh, and nodded. I had a feeling my parents would try to push me into it, so there was no point in trying to say 'no'. It would just be easier to say yes from the start. Jean's face lit up, and he gave me a gentle-hug, though he muttered 'no homo' under his breath, causing me to put the hand he'd not let go of to my mouth. The way his grin seemed to widen meant that he'd intentionally made sure I heard. Then, his face returned to seriousness. "I'm going to help you through this, okay, Marco? I will keep my phone on twenty-four seven, and you can text me whenever you like. Heck, just call if you want to hear my voice. Maybe we should learn morse-code." The corners of his lips tweaked, which probably meant the same had happened to me. I just managed a small shrug, letting my head rest against the pillows.

I wasn't going to be "fixed" just like that. I still wanted to be dead, despite regretting it at the last moment. I still didn't really want to move, but..maybe having Jean around wouldn't be so bad. Now that my 'problems' were discovered, I had no point in hiding it. Might as well take all the help I can get, even if it meant using Jean as my support, which wasn't something I wanted to do, but I took the chance anyway. Group-therapy would be useful, I supposed. If you can't beat them, join them, and I don't think anybody would've let me pass on group-therapy with the sudden thing I'd done. 

I let out a very small sigh. I felt a head-ache coming on, and just wanted to sleep. I heard Jean lean back and groan, muttering about how he hadn't slept properly due to nightmares. I looked at him after a few more minutes, and noticed that he'd fallen asleep. Well, I felt like a complete ass for doing what I'd did. I wouldn't be trying that again anytime soon. I'd..at least give group-therapy a chance, I supposed.

 


	5. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Marco?" He turned his head to look at me, and I arched an eyebrow, giving him permission to continue. "Can I count your freckles?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gettin' out this chapter while I remember, since I'm going to be pretty busy for the next few days, thus I won't get much time to write.

I was allowed to go home the next day, and my parents instantly made me feel like everything was normal, though they kept me under watch. Jean came around more often, as well as tagging along to work with me and such. It would've been annoying if I hadn't felt relieved for his presence. Today, however, was my first day of Group Therapy, and I did not want to go. Jean had slept over during the night, and we were both just laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hey, Marco?" He turned his head to look at me, and I arched an eyebrow, giving him permission to continue. "Can I count your freckles?" He questioned. This caused me to turn my head to him, and he held his hands up in defense, "Only on your face and..torso, if you don't mind. I'm really curious." Jean admitted, giving me a sheepish look. I studied him carefully, before sitting up and taking my shirt off, staying utterly still as my friend moved around to my front, and began counting under his breath. I felt a little..exposed like this, and it made my heart-rate increase. Despite Jean being rather close to me after such a short amount of time, I still felt like he could turn around and stab me in the back at any moment, or cut the rope that held the knife above my neck(metaphorically). However, he'd stayed with my when I had been in hospital, so I had a feeling that my worries were irrational.

Nonetheless, I was painfully aware as his head lowered to count the freckles on my shoulders and neck, putting one arm on one of my shoulders so he could look at my back, still counting. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, but just figured it was because he was _so close that I could practically feel his breath_. My worries didn't have to last much longer, because after a few more minutes, he sat back. "Okay, I'm done! You have..a lot of freckles on your body." He commented.

I snorted in reply and put my shirt back on, letting the heat in my cheeks go down. "Marco! Jean!" It was my mother's voice, signalling that it was time to leave. Jean gave a dramatic groan and got up; both of us were glad we'd gotten dressed as soon as we'd woken up. After grabbing our jackets(we had matching ones - how cool was that? Mine was black with white stripes and his was white with black stripes), we headed downstairs and put our shoes on, waving goodbye to my mom as we left the house. We would be able to walk, luckily, due to the building being very close.

Jean began singing as we went, at the top of his lungs. Honestly, he wasn't a bad singer, but it still made me quicken my pace, which only caused him to laugh and jog after me, singing even louder. Thank god we arrived at the builing and he quietened - I don't know what I would've done if we hadn't. Soon enough, we found the room the session was being held in, and found it to be empty aside from two people.

"Bertholdt, Reiner? Are you the only two here? Where's Hanji?" Jean questioned, dragging me over to the two. One was very tall, and looked very uncomfortable, while the other was more muscular, and looked pretty confident. "She's gone to get coffee." The blond one replied, before turning his gaze to me. "Is this the new one she's been talking about, though?" I shrunk back, feeling a little threatened. Jean, however, had my back, throwing his arm over my shoulder, "Yep, this is Marco. Marco, this is Bertholdt and Reiner - they're a thing. Also, Annie's their girl. They have threesomes often, though she's actually with someone; she won't say who." He grinned. I gave a small wave to the two in front of me, deciding I'd dismiss the part at the end, since the one Jean had pointed out as Reiner looked annoyed. 

I flickered my gaze back as the door opened, and an eccentric-looking brunette waltzed in, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, and a folder with the other. Her glasses were slipping off her nose, and she looked like she was meant to be in a laboratory, not here. "Oh! Jean!" Her voice was cheerful and somewhat masculine, "And I'm assuming that this is Marco? Good, good." She set her coffee and folder down on a table, walking over to us and smiling, "You've already met Reiner and Bertl, I see." The woman nodded firmly, "I'm Hanji - I'm your therapist while you're here." She held out her hand for me to shake, but I just gave her a small smile, not particularly wanting to shake hands with her. Hanji appeared to understand, and nodded, walking to start putting chairs in a formation.

As the therapist was doing that, a few more people entered - a short blonde with a large nose and a killer look about her, an even shorter blonde girl who looked like an angel, followed closely by a taller girl with tan skin and brown hair(also, freckles; I wasn't the only freckled one here). Jean suddenly growled beside me as Eren, Mikasa and Armin came in - I was curious as to why, but Jean just led me over to some seats and sat me down, sitting next to me, muttering something about the three 'being back for the third time'. 

Once everybody had sat down, Hanji sat in an empty seat with her folder on her lap, smiling brightly. "Okay, everyone, we have a new member today, so we're going to go around saying our name and a bit about ourselves, as well as why we're here - since we're a mixed group." She hummed. There were a few murmurs as a few people looked at me(Eren seemed surprised that I was there).

The therapist pointed to the angelic-looking girl to her left, "Starting with you." She beamed. The girl blinked, before smiling timidly, "I'm Christa Renz, I was adopted when I was younger, and I'm here for depression.." She mumbled, looking away. The girl next to her sighed, crossing her arms, "I'm Ymir, I hate giving away my last name, and I'm here for bi-polarity." Well, that was interesting. I just listened quietly, gaze flicking to each as they spoke. 

"I'm Reiner Braun, I'm lactose-intolerant and I'm here for depression and PTSD." Reiner stated, glancing at Bertholdt, who stutted nervously. "I-I'm Bertholdt Fubar, I-I have a b-bit of a stammer, and I'm here f-for anxiety and major d-depression." He mumbled. I had a feeling that most of this group had some form of depression - that's what it looked like. It was probably to help the others or something, I don't know. I continued to listen as the rest went about.

"I'm Eren Jaeger, I hate Jean, I have IED and minor depression." The brunet grumbled, seeming to be annoyed at having to state that. I don't think I really expected Eren's aggressive behaviour to be due to something like that, but then again, Jean had told me of how he'd yelled in the middle of a class in middle-school because he didn't understand and the teacher wouldn't explain. Fair enough. Armin and Mikasa introduced themselves as 'care-takers' for Eren, with nothing 'wrong' with them. I assumed that meant that he was calmer with them. 

The next one to introduce herself was the short, angry-looking blonde. "I'm Annie Leonhardt and I'm not telling you what's with me." She stated firmly, which caused Hanji to sigh, but nothing else. Next was Jean, which just caused him to frown. "I'm Jean Kirstein, Marco's my best friend." He pulled me by my shoulders while glaring at Eren, "And I'm here for PTSD." He huffed.

It was almost amusing how protective Jean had become, especially around Eren, whom I assumed my friend blamed for my little..happening. The therapist turned her gaze to me, "You don't mind if I tell them, do you?" She questioned. I frowned, trying to think what she meant, before shaking my head. Hanji nodded, and turned her gaze to everyone, "He's Marco Bodt, he's here for selective-mutism, night-terrors, depression and trust-issues." She stated. At that moment, I felt everybody's gaze turn to me, and I shrunk back against Jean, averting my gaze. 

The rest of therapy passed without a hitch - Hanji talked a lot, I found that out, and she often got side-tracked. We played a few games, and Hanji gave us many reasons why we should all strive to live, not just exist. She really knew what she was talking about, and I found out from Jean that she'd actually suffered from major depression when she was younger, and helping others kept it at bay, though nobody knew why.

With all honesty, I kinda liked the group-therapy. It wasn't just sitting in a room with another person, listening as they asked questions and then ignoring them. Jean was the only real reason I participated in the silly little games, though, since I didn't want to upset him. I was glad I had joined in, though, because, well, it took my mind off everything. Now, however, we were walking home, watching our breath go up in small white clouds. "How was it?" He finally broke the silence. 

How was it? That was a tough question. Yeah, it wasn't bad, and it would've probably been enjoyable if I didn't lack the mental energy to care, but..I gave him a thumbs-up and a small smile to show him how I felt, and I swear I'd never seen his face light up. "Great! We have it weekly. You can ignore Eren being there - he probably had another episode. I mean, this is his third time being re-admitted, and it's usually after an episode. I feel sorry for whoever ended up on the other end." He mused. I nodded as I listened, keeping my gaze ahead.

Everybody had been so...interesting, in a way. Reiner often liked to show that Bertholdt was 'his' by giving him hugs or bopping noses with him, and the two often hugged Annie, who didn't mind - though she never smiled. Ymir was very protective over Christa, but she did have an episode halfway through where she suddenly seemed to stop caring - Hanji just said it was normal, and Christa was fine with it. Eren had two episodes over nothing, so Mikasa and Armin had to take him home about ten minutes before the session officially ended, before he injured someone unintentionally. All in all, today hadn't been as depressing as every other day, though I did feel even more exhausted. The crazy brunette therapist had told me that I probably wouldn't like it at first, but Jean promised to pull me along constantly, which was fine. I had a feeling that he'd probably carry me, if he had to. 

Before I knew it, I was standing outside my front-door, waving Jean goodbye before I entered, kicking off my shoes and giving the bell a few rings before heading upstairs, going to my room. Once there, I changed into my pajamas before flopping into bed, wrapping myself in my covers and shielding myself from the world. 

When I fell asleep, the nightmares were much worse than I could have imagined.


End file.
